Sing The Sorrow
by xdarkdreamer
Summary: (STS inspired) After Harry's 5th year he's been growing up fast. Now he has planned to take action into his life. But he doesn't know what his life really is, and on the way of finding himself, he realized his mistakes. HPDM friendship, will be angst


I'm gunna try something that might be hard. If it doesn't work out, I might stop writing it, but I'll try to give it a shot.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not own AFI, however I do own their CD Sing The Sorrow, as well as some other of their CDs, but I don't own them, or their lyrics.  
  
Warnings: It may develope into slash, it is almost certain to have a morbid theme, but I have no clue what I'm writing as of now.  
  
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Sing The Sorrow  
  
Prologue: Miseria Cantare (The Beginning)  
  
Love your hate,  
Your faith lost.  
You are now,  
One of us.  
Nothing from nowhere,  
I'm no one at all.  
Radiate, recognize,  
One silent call,  
As well all form,  
One dark flame.  
Incinerate.  
  
In confusion and anger, you may say or do things that you can regret within a minute after it passed. But during that time, as your letting it out, taking revenge or simply cursing, you feel /loose/, out of control, powerful. Harry Potter felt this way as he raged and wrecked his headmaster's office. He felt this way as he lashed out at his potions professor. He felt that way when he argued with his friends. And it scared him. He felt a bubble rise in him, almost like a balloon. And that balloon was about to pop. What would happen then, he was too terrified to find out.Yet the relief he felt as he released his pain and agony was almost enough to make him want it.  
  
And as he lay on his bed, he though to himself, if he even wanted it, there would be some damage that he wasn't sure he could undo. Now as he felt strong in guilt and grief, he idly watched the stars glow bright to dim as the night grew old and a new day was born. The scene was depressing, as the night seemed to call to him, bring him something that the daylight could not. And the stars died early in the morning, leaving a whispy purple air about his room.  
  
Insomnia seemed to attache itself to Harry after his fifth year. But it was only the first week of this lack of sleep that seemed torturous. Now he simply lacked any energy and had a loss of appetite, but in general, he could go about the day. The warnings which Moody gave the Dursleys didn't seem to do much, only leaving them hesitant around Harry at first, then they pursued with the usual treatment. They gave him a long list of chores, and little food that didn't really strike Harry's interest anyway. He tiredly did the chores then crawled back into his room to stare at the night.  
  
"Sirius...," he whispered, a ball in his throat forming. He didn't know where he belonged anymore, or who he was. He was almost sixteen and the whole wizarding world could tell him who Harry Potter was, but he had no clue to as who he was. Was he a murderer? On some nights it seemed so, on others, he was an orphan with no hopes. But nights like this were perhaps the hardest.  
  
Memories would not leave him alone, and he was forced to think about his godfather.  
  
How dumb he had been to gone to the Department of Mysteries. How much he would stake to save Sirius, when the man wasn't even there. And only for the man to die from a curse knocking him into the veil. The veil, it seemed to hold so many answers that Harry needed to know. Was it painful? Was it long? Short? Did he truly die? What if he was actually alive in some other dimension?  
  
Anxiety crept up on Harry, quickening his breathing and heart rate. He was feeling very closed-in at the moment, and the musky daylight seemed to increase this feeling. Then the guilt took it's role. Was it his fault? It was. If he hadn't been so dumb. But it wasn't just his, it was Kreature's, and Dumbledore's, and perhaps even Snape's. He had blamed Snape so much, but it really wasn't his fault. It was true the man had stopped Occlumency lessons with him, but he had a very good reason. Harry couldn't simply give all the fault to one person, not even himself. He played a big part in Sirius's death, and he was paying for it now. But Dumbledore should have known to not keep something to important to himself. If he hadn't, he would've tried harder in Occlumency.  
  
But it wasn't just the guilt of his dead godfather bothering him these days. No, he was beginning to see the real world. See that Dumbledore wasn't as great as he had originally thought. That the blood spilled wasn't all because of the dark, nor the light. He knew that he would eventually have to spill blood himself, and more than just Voldemorts.  
  
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Just a tidbit. Please review, it'll make your dark dreamer happy and happiness means faster writing. :) Thanks! Steph 


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